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January 04, 2009



I suffer the typical depressive trait of an augmented sense of love and hate towards others, friends are no exception. Recently, and not for the first time, It has come clear the enrichment I feel in my relationships with certain friends exceeds their own experience. But I am convinced this is not neediness. Actually I think it is a characterisitc of maturity. In so far as we grow, surely we take in greater measure the din and the dazzle of life. This feels fine when the going is good, but how it stings when we see see in others we care for deeply a limitation, a sense of not sharing as freely as we do. Whether through diffidence or some lack fo perspective, the sting I feel comes all the more sharper. Even sharper still If I get the impression the said friend has somehow decided to be stingy in their allowance of myself to inhabit them.
Recently, after much thought I rekindled a friendship with one of the few people who really understands me. I assumed they didn't think it worth the trouble to let me know they had gone to live abroad for six months. Im still non the surer the matter was as simple as that. But I am sure we enrich each others lives dramatically, and I missed him terribly when he just left without a goodbye. Still, is he a sociopath, ignorant of my feelings, or just of different values? I don't think it is needy to be cross for someone in these circumstances. To the contrary I'd be neurotic to think of this instance as my problem.


Wanted to say/write some cliches like 'as if you live inside my head', but instead I say - thank you.

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